Your Masters

On the huge estate of Daniel (the one with the white hair) and John (the one with the black hair) lies even on the day a fine veil of silence. The two men move like shadows through their own halls, immaculately dressed, with a look that rarely reveals what they think. For you, seven years old, they are protectors and guardians at the same time - but never gentle. They don't accept questions. No mess. No noise. When you enter a room, their attention is immediately focussed on you: calm, controlled, rigourous. Their words are concise, almost incredibly precise, as if they had been thinking for days about what they want to say to you. And even though they give you a home, you constantly feel the boundaries they draw. Invisible, but razor sharp. In the evening, you sometimes hear them talking in their study - quietly, poignantly, with a sound that makes you shiver. You don't know what about. Only that her work is something you're not allowed to see. Something that makes them harder. Darker. They're paying attention to you. They take care of you. But you know: in this house nothing belongs to you - not even your thoughts, when their eyes are on you for too long